


brother if you have a chance to pick me up

by inlovewithnight



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M, Post-Band, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 10:12:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2384600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inlovewithnight/pseuds/inlovewithnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard looked so good in his Bowie drag, Mikey kind of didn't know what to do with himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	brother if you have a chance to pick me up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alpheratz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alpheratz/gifts).



Gerard looked so good in his Bowie drag, Mikey kind of didn't know what to do with himself.

He was still getting used to the idea that he wasn't part of his brother, or--no. Part of the same _thing_ as his brother. He was separate, off to the side, watching. He didn't have any right to go in there and be part of this. It was still weird.

But getting to watch Gerard like this was pretty okay.

Gerard fingered at his hair, and Mikey heard the stylist make a little muffled noise of protest. “Does this look okay?” Gerard called out, maybe at the photographer, maybe at the whole room, maybe at the disembodied spirit of David Bowie. “Does it need to be, like. More?”

“It’s enough,” the photographer said patiently, and Mikey bit his lip to keep from giggling. Gerard wouldn’t believe that for a minute. “Give us pouty.”

“I don’t want pouty. I’m not doing pouty on this album.”

“It’s just so we have a range of pictures to choose from.”

“No, I don’t want to do that.” Gerard waved his hands at the photographer and turned away, striking a pose in profile to the camera. “Like this, maybe.”

His tie was crooked. Mikey thought about pointing it out, but instead he hid his face behind his coffee cup and took a sip. Not his business to say anything. This was all Gerard’s.

“I need a latte,” Gerard said after a while. “And a cigarette, fuck. Does anyone here vape? Can you vape near me so I can get some by osmosis? Being an ex-smoker sucks. Can I get a latte?”

Mikey hunched his shoulders and watched the photographer’s assistant disappear in the direction of the nearest Starbucks. He’d scoped it out earlier.

“Mikey,” Gerard said suddenly. “Where’s Mikey? Did he leave?”

“I’m over here, Gerard.”

“Oh. Good.” Gerard turned on his heel to face Mikey, striking another pose with his hands on his hips and his elbows flung jauntily outward. “What do you think?”

“You look good.” Mikey shrugged. “You know you look good.”

“But do I look like _me_?” Gerard sounded honestly distressed. “Authentically me? Not Gerard from My Chemical Romance?”

Mikey’s heart flip-flopped and crawled into his stomach. He swallowed it down hard and reached out, putting his hands on Gerard’s shoulders and trying to hold him still. Trying to keep him.

“You couldn’t look more like you if you tried,” he said. He meant it, he really did, especially when Gerard smiled.

**

After the shoot they drove around for a while. Gerard played the final version of the album in the car, twice, before he decided that was weird and switched over to a playlist made up entirely of synthesizers. “This is my inspiration,” Gerard said.

“For what?”

“I’m not sure yet. I’m still being inspired.”

Mikey nodded and closed his eyes, letting the vibration of the car move through him, rattling his brain and his bones. Whatever Gerard was inspired to do would be amazing. That was a constant.

“Let’s get ice cream,” Gerard said abruptly. “You want ice cream?”

Mikey opened one eye. “Never turn it down.”

“There’s this place.” Gerard hit his turn signal and flew across traffic. “It’s, like, organic.”

“Organic ice cream?”

“Yeah. Organic milk and everything. Super-organic.”

“I didn’t know you were doing organic now.”

“I’m not _doing_ organic. This is organic. And really good. They have specialty flavors.” Mikey felt Gerard watching him, and waved his hand at him.

“Eyes on the road, dude, I don’t want to die today.”

“No dying. Just organic ice cream.”

“You’re dressed like an ice cream man, so that works.”

Gerard frowned. “Ice cream men wear white, don’t they?”

“I think they’d let you in the union on the grounds of being dressed like a cartoon character.”

Gerard glared at him, then looked back at the road. “But a cool cartoon character, right? Like Sailor Moon or something.”

“Yeah, Gerard.” Mikey closed his eyes again. “Just like Sailor Moon.”

**

Gerard, dressed like Bowie, was as hot as Sailor Moon. Mikey worked on coming to terms with that while they waited in line for their ice cream.

“This is such a hipster place,” Gerard said, looking around. “Back in Jersey we would’ve made fun of people who went here.”

Mikey nodded. It was true.

“You ever think about how everybody grows up to be what they claim to despise?” Gerard rocked back on his heels and looked at the ceiling. “Man, if I dwell on that I’ll be too depressed to get out of bed tomorrow.”

Mikey recognized a cue when he heard one. “Tell me about the Spider-verse thing.”

“Oh shit.” Gerard was off and running and Mikey zoned out, letting his brother’s voice wash around him while his eyes wandered up and down the lines of Gerard’s body, the lines of the suit wrapped around it, the lines and angles and punctuation made by his movements and gestures. The shoes made him glide like he was dancing. The presence of… something; the collar on the shirt? The tie? The jacket lapels? Something about it made him present knees and elbows with every step and wave of his arm.

With Gerard, the package always affected the contents. Mikey could flash back through them one by one: the aggression of Party Poison, the exaggerated carefulness of the Patient, the falling-star recklessness of the nameless Revenge caricatures. Between and behind them, the guy who was his brother, the one his skin and his heart recognized as _part-of-us_ even when he closed his eyes.

Some things never changed.

Gerard produced his wallet with a flourish. “It’s on me.”

“What am I going to owe you for that?”

Gerard smirked and handed his credit card over with a snap of his wrist. “An hour of hard labor.”

Mikey smiled and it didn’t even ache. Some things changed when no one was looking.

**

Gerard kissed him in the car, his mouth tasting like apple fudge ripple, which was a hipster flavor if Mikey had ever heard of one. Not that he had any room to talk. He was eating juniper walnut, which mostly made him think about gin. He wondered if Gerard tasted that on his tongue, and what apple gin fudge was like, and why he was thinking at all instead of kissing Gerard back.

“Don’t leave me hanging, here,” Gerard mumbled, and Mikey nodded, putting his cup of ice cream down on the dash so he could lean in across the armrest and the cupholders and the emergency brake to wrap Gerard’s tie around his hand and press his mouth to Gerard’s neck.

He couldn’t say any of the things he’s feeling, like _don’t leave me behind_ and _help me_ and _I’m angry and proud and I love you and I hate you and it’s all at once and that kind of makes me nauseated_ and _seriously, gin, I want a fucking drink_. And _Gerard, Gerard, Gerard_ , his brother, echoing through him like the beating of his own heart.

He sucked a mark onto Gerard’s neck instead, one that would bloom into a nice dark hickey, one that Gerard would have to explain away to the world. This is what Mikey could claim, the space that Gerard had made for him to claim, and Mikey would take all of it and hold on as tightly as he could.

“Easy,” Gerard said softly, his hands coming up to rest on Mikey’s back, one down by his waist and one up at his neck, fingers slipping into the roots of Mikey’s hair. “Easy, Mikey. Ow. I love you. Ow. Stop biting me.”

Mikey pulled back, breathing hard and looking up to meet Gerard’s eyes. “I want to blow you. Let me?”

Gerard nodded and arched up off his seat to fumble with the zipper of his suit. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

Mikey pushed his hair back behind his ears and took another mouthful of ice cream while Gerard got his clothes out of the way. Cold ice cream on a hot dick was--probably pretty mean, actually, but he wanted Gerard to be paying attention to him, to really know he was there. They didn’t get a lot of time together like this. Mikey wanted it to count.

Gerard gasped and twisted his fingers in Mikey’s hair when Mikey took him in his mouth. “That’s _cold_!”

Mikey closed his eyes and rolled his tongue around Gerard’s dick, waiting for him to relax, which took another minute. “Jesus,” Gerard whispered finally. “C’mon.”

Mikey breathed slowly and took Gerard deeper. He would go slowly, draw this out, make Gerard stutter and hesitate and beg. He wanted to hear Gerard’s voice rise and break, not as any kind of punishment or anger, but to remind himself that whatever other tradeoffs they had made, there was still this. Unchanged and theirs.

There was a pretty good chance that Mikey was kind of pathetic. He was okay with that, if it meant he didn’t have to give up this one last thing.

Gerard tugged at his hair harder and Mikey let the edge of his teeth graze delicate skin as a warning, a reminder--whatever. It didn’t matter. It made Gerard let go and turn his tugging into petting, the flat of his hand stroking Mikey’s hair while Mikey moved over him. It was gentle and _loving_ , all that he wanted. He opened his eyes and looked up, through his lashes and the sweat-damp strands of hair falling over his face.

Gerard was watching him, biting his lip, his face red under the thick layer of photoshoot makeup. Only a few people got to see him like this, secret and unguarded, and of all of them Mikey had been _first_. He wouldn’t forget and he wouldn’t let go. When they were like this he could believe that Gerard wouldn’t either.

Gerard’s hips jerked up, his fingers scrambling against Mikey’s skull. “Ah-ah--” The short sound died in an exhalation, and Gerard slumped back against the seat as Mikey pulled away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

They were quiet for a few minutes, catching their breath. Mikey watched the last of his ice cream melting in its cup, the spoon slowly sagging down to rest against the edge. His heart was pounding in his ears and banging around in his chest. He hadn’t felt this way in a million years. He felt this way all the time.

Gerard had that effect on people.

“I love you,” Gerard said abruptly. “You know that, right?”

Mikey wiped his mouth again and nodded. He let Gerard take his hand in his own, squeeze it tight, run his thumb over the lines of Mikey’s palm.

“Nothing important has changed,” Gerard went on. “We’re still us. No matter what.”

“I know.” Mikey nodded again. “I’m okay. I really am.”

“Okay.” Gerard squeezed his hand again. “You want me to take you home?”

Mikey shook his head. “Let’s drive around a little.”

“Listen to some Bowie?”

Mikey snorted a laugh. “Absolutely anything else.”

“Then you have to listen to the album again. Just once.”

“A million times.” Mikey leaned back in his seat and rested his head against the window as Gerard started the car. “A hundred million.”


End file.
